Across the Pond
by Pinkie Tuscadaro
Summary: Craig decides to go to England when Ashley does but doesn't tell her so she doesn't tell him not to, and it is a bit of a disaster when he gets there. Crash.
1. Chapter 1

Just fooling around, no coherent thought about it. Trying to grab these hours and hold onto them. Impossible. I knew that. Even at 16 I knew it.

Ashley was going to leave for England and there was nothing I could do about it, nothing real, considering that Joey thought I was too mentally ill to go. Screw him. I was so mad at him I could hardly stand it, but I was mad at Ashley, too. I mean after Jimmy got shot it seemed like things were so bleak, like none of us could be happy again. But then that changed. Ash and me got back together, and the music was going really great, and Jimmy was, well, he wasn't dead. And I thought I was happy and Ashley had to go and ruin it.

At the same time I kind of knew that I couldn't depend on Ashley for happiness. What kind of sick happiness was that? Well, I was sick, that was established. Doctors and psychiatrists and nurses and all my friends and Joey, they all agreed I was sick. It was only me who couldn't quite believe it.

I was sitting up in my garage, strumming the guitar. Not a real song, just random notes that kind of sounded nice all strung together. Soon I'd go meet Jimmy for a movie but not yet.

I sort of wondered how my real dad would have reacted to this whole 'bi-polar' business. He was a doctor, after all. Maybe he would have known what was wrong with me sooner. Or maybe I would have been just so completely fucked up from him playing head games with me that no one would be able to tell the difference.

I headed out to meet Jimmy for the movie. When I saw him at the mall I was still a little surprised by the wheelchair but I hid it. I didn't want him to know that I really noticed it as much as I did. What did it really matter anyway? We were all damaged one way or another, just with Jimmy you could see it right away. Maybe that was better.

Joey showed up. I wasn't going to talk to him. But he offered me the tickets to England and I thought maybe it was okay, that he knew I was better and not just pretending that he thought it. And this was great because now I could spend the summer with Ashley.

X…..x……x……..x……..x………x.

I thought of going to Ash's house and telling her about the tickets and how we could spend our summer together but I figured it would be better to surprise her. I called her, though, so she wouldn't suspect anything was up.

"Hey, Ash,"

"Craig,"

"Listen, I just wanted to call and say…bye,"

"Bye. I'm so going to miss you,"

"Yeah. Me, too. Have a good trip, okay?"

"Okay,"

We hung up and I smiled. She didn't suspect a thing.

At home, watching baseball with Joey, I shifted on the couch.

"Did you tell Ashley you're going to England?" he said. I cleared my throat and shifted again.

"Uh, no,"

"No? You didn't tell her? Don't you think you should?"

"Well, I kind of want it to be a surprise,"

"But Craig, what if she…what if she isn't crazy about the idea?"

I looked at him sharply.

"What do you mean, Joey? You think she won't be happy about it?"

"I don't know, Craig. She's a she, after all. Sometimes you just can't figure them out,"

"She'll be thrilled," I said, but thanks to Joey I suddenly wasn't so sure.

X….x…..x…..x……x.x…….x

The next morning was so bright but cool, I was in my leather jacket. Joey and Caitlin were hanging all over each other talking about their wedding. They both hugged me and said all the supportive things, well Caitlin did anyhow. Joey nagged at me about calling him and if I didn't feel right and medication and did I have all my stuff. It was almost like he thought mentally ill meant retarded. I was being hard on him, I knew. I just wished he'd back off about this whole thing just once, and treat me like I was normal, like he used to treat me.

In the cab on the way to the airport I started to have doubts about Ashley really being that thrilled about me just showing up in England after her, following her like some little puppy. But I shook that thought away. Of course she would be happy about it, she loved me, we loved each other. It would all be fine.

The plane took off, and I thought of plane crashes and terrorists just to think of something other than Ash being super pissed about this idea, but it was too late now. Halfway across the Atlantic, the ocean that smooth blue beneath the plane, it was too late now.


	2. Chapter 2

I felt lost when I got to the airport. I was never in airports. And it felt all foreign, even though it was England. Canada was English, sort of. Still, I felt the weariness of all the miles I'd traveled, and I could hear the foreign accents all around me and I knew that if I spoke to anyone I'd sound foreign. I had so much to do, had to get my luggage and then get a cab to my dorm and meet the teachers there and find Ashley. But first things first. I went to a coffee shop and got a large coffee, hoping to shake off this weird tiredness from being on that damn plane.

I had to concentrate on what people were saying to understand them through the accents, but it was kind of cool, I had to admit. Like a movie or something. They brought me my large coffee and set it on the counter and I sipped it, thinking about Ashley, her face when she saw me. I had that coffee and then another one, feeling still tired but hyped up and wired on top of the tiredness. Wandered off to find my luggage and call Joey. He had wanted me to call him when I got here.

"Craig, how was the trip?" Joey sounded like he was a block away, not a whole ocean. And he sounded awfully relieved to hear from me.

"Good, it was fine, I'm kinda tired, though,"

Outside the airport it was pretty cool. London. Just like it looked in books and on the internet, like a fairly tale or something. Shit I had a lot of stuff to carry, and the guitar case was so awkward and kept banging against my legs. Enough gawking at everything, I'd be here long enough. And I wasn't even here because it was England and I wanted to see it, or because I wanted to travel or even because of this music program I had found. Nope. It wasn't any of those things. It was Ashley, just Ashley.

Another cab, and I told the guy where I was going, and he wanted to make small talk.

"Nice accent, mate. From the States?"

"No, Canada. Toronto,"

"Sorry, can't tell those accents apart. Canada's better though, 'oight? Less violent?"

"Yeah, I guess," I could barely concentrate on this conversation cause the guy's accent was really thick and I just really wanted to see Ash. He dropped me off at the dorm and I dragged my luggage up all the stairs to my room. It was getting late. Maybe I'd hold off on seeing Ashley until tomorrow, when I was rested. Maybe she'd be mad that I followed her here, maybe this wasn't a good idea at all.

No. Screw that. She'd be thrilled, of course. So I dragged out the little card that she wrote the address of where she'd be staying, looking at her handwriting, remembering when she jotted it down for me. She'd been talking about it non stop despite my obvious depression that she was leaving for the whole summer.

Another cab, another talkative driver, and I was getting a little more used to the accent. It was cool but sort of annoying sometimes, like people from the southern United States, y'all and that. Whatever. We had aboot and sorey so I guess it all evened out, eh?

There it was. Her dad's place. It was an apartment in a brick building that was right up against the street. I took a deep breath, suddenly really nervous. Shit. What if this was as stupid an idea as I'd had? I shook my head. Too late now. I went into the building and up to her dad's apartment. Knocked on the door, a smile plastered on my face. Okay. This was going to be okay.

"Craig?" Ashley's dad, looking tanned and in shape, wearing a dress shirt but no tie. He looked very not thrilled to see me. Of course he was remembering the wedding and what a mess I'd made of it.

"Hi, Mr. Kerwin. Is Ashley here?"

"Uh, yes she is. I'll, I'll go get her,"

He turned and walked inside, not inviting me in. He just left me in the hall. Oh well. I swallowed, my mouth felt dry. I could feel my heart beating. I shifted from one foot to the other. Oh, Ashley, shit.

"Craig?" There she was, looking at me with awe, and then the look darkened.

"Craig, what are you doing here?"

"I got this music program thing to do, it's a few blocks over,"

She looked at me with this wide eyed disbelief, and we both just stood there. I saw her dad in the room behind her looking sort of worried.

"Uh, can I come in?" I said, watching as this wasn't going as I'd hoped. Not at all. She grabbed my arm above the elbow hard, her nails digging into me, and she shook her head.

"C'mon," she said, dragging me into the hallway and shutting the apartment door.

"Craig, what are you doing here? You just followed me to England?"

"No! Not really. I, uh, I have this music program thing-"

"Oh don't give me that bullshit, Craig! You followed me here. How could you? Craig, I needed a break. A break from everything,"

"Yeah, so we're both here, we can be on a break together,"

"No. You don't understand. I needed a break…from you,"

I winced, turned away, but she kept talking.

"Ever since my dad's wedding it's been me watching what I say, and watching your moods, and worrying about you, if you're taking your meds or not, and if you'll get manic again, and everything. Craig, I can't take it anymore. I had to get away and you followed me? Jesus,"

"Fine," I said, and all I could see in this hallway were little details that didn't seem to add up. A crack in the paint near the ceiling. The scuff marks on the linoleum floor. The dull shine in the doorknob, Ashley's reddish nail polish and silver rings. The square of weak sunlight falling through the window down the hall.

"Look, I'll just go," I walked away, and she didn't try to stop me.


	3. Chapter 3

I was in a daze walking back to my dorm. What did I think would happen? The truth was I wasn't thinking at all. I should have known that Ash was, well, I don't know. I should have known she needed a break. So I just walked, not really wanting to go to my dorm and deal with anything. I just wanted to wallow in self pity.

Head down, catching a few of the accents of people talking as I walked by them. If I didn't say anything they wouldn't know I didn't belong here. But of course I didn't. Belong here, I mean. Or anywhere.

This just completely sucked. Ashley wanted nothing to do with me, that was clear. It was so clear that she tried to leave the continent to get away from me. But would I see it? Would I see the way she looked uncomfortable in the hallways at school, the way she looked down? Would I hear the tone of resignation in her voice when I called? Would I ever put two and two together? No. Because I was too busy being crazy, and seeing what I wanted to see.

I took a deep breath, slowing down. I'd have to go to that dorm and get settled there and start playing music, studying music. That's why I said I was coming here. That was my excuse to be with Ashley. So now the excuse would be the reason. I almost wanted to feel angry with her, but I wouldn't quite let myself. I was a little worried about my anger. Lately it seemed to be out of control.

I could just walk around all day, all night. I was angry. It was undirected, aimless. It wanted Ashley to be the target, of course, because how could she? How could she just, just, pretend things were fine when she obviously wants nothing to do with me? That's nice. Whatever. I would try not to care.

I had been crazy over this girl for awhile. Since grade nine, really. And it was almost grade 12. Grade nine she was cool, a cool girl who was smart and I liked talking to her and she was pretty and it was simpler. But then, somehow, it all got so complicated. It got so hurtful. It got to be that she was all I could think about.

I went to the dorm, it was a college during the school year. I unpacked all my stuff and I listened to everyone talking all around me but I said little. I didn't want to talk, I didn't want to do anything. I couldn't believe Ashley. I couldn't believe her.

There would be classes in the morning, and I sat on top of the made bed playing the guitar. Let everyone think I was some anti-social music geek. I could just bury myself in the music. That's what I'd do. Close my eyes, fight back the tears, play these sad songs. What was I thinking? Was I honestly thinking I could marry Ashley? Was it all just this fantasy in my head? It was time I woke up and looked at the facts. She was running from me. I didn't want that. I didn't want things to be this way.

Strum, pluck, play. The guitar was always there for me. It wouldn't suddenly run away to England, leaving me. It sat patiently in the corner of my rooms, waiting for me to play it. It wouldn't play head games, it wouldn't tear at me emotionally, it wouldn't make me feel guilty and broken.

My phone rang and I felt my heart start to race. It was Ashley, and she wanted to apologize, and she wanted to see me.

"Hello?" I said.

"Craig," It was Joey, of course. Why wouldn't it be? I tried not to let the disappointment overwhelm me.

"Hey, Joey,"

"Everything alright?" he said, and I could tell he was trying to be casual but actually he knew, he could tell by my voice that something was wrong. Ever since this whole bi-polar thing, Joey has been, I don't know, extra-observant. But I wouldn't admit it to him. I wouldn't let him know my plan kind of crashed and burned.

"Yeah, everything is fine,"


End file.
